


Let It Snow

by Pixietails



Category: Durarara!!
Genre: Gen, M/M, literally just Christmas fluff about two idiots that aren't even a couple
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 08:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8836735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pixietails/pseuds/Pixietails
Summary: Christmas wasn’t a holiday that had ever piqued his interest personally, and so he didn’t feel any sort of emptiness.  He wasn’t the type to feel great sadness from his lack of relationship, or to pine quietly over another, single person.  Loving humanity as a whole meant that no matter where he spent his Christmas Eve, he would be celebrating just so long as he wasn’t, technically, by himself.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Merry Christmas!

    The first snowflakes fell slowly; soft, and formless, each with the lifespan of precious few seconds.  They were delicate things, vanishing mere moments after they landed on a coat sleeve, or a warm hat--even those that managed to stick to the ground eventually faded away.   It was, however, beautiful enough to draw the attention away from the twinkling, festive lights that had been placed around the city.  A child pulled away from her mother’s hand to chase after a small flurry of snowflakes, only to be chastised and pulled along as a teenaged couple stopped happily to take a picture of their own, fairy-tale moment.  Two young women stopped to marvel at the graceful, gentle way the snow fell around them: at the same time, a middle-aged businessman complained about the cold to no one in particular.

    After about an hour the snow began to fall more regularly, each crystal beginning to take on a unique shape as the temperature dropped.  Miraculously, the cold did little to drive away the crowd, no--not on Christmas Eve.  Couples had come out in droves to take in the night and spend time together, while others were just happy enough to stop and take in the sights.  A handful of people wandered to and fro with their recently purchased Christmas cakes, hurrying home to both seek warmth and the affection of their loved ones.  And yet still others lingered alone, as though attempting to leech off of those who had found temporary happiness.

    Orihara Izaya was surely not one of those people.

    Had someone asked, he would have laughed and readily denied the notion that he was lonely.  Christmas wasn’t a holiday that had ever piqued his interest personally, and so he didn’t feel any sort of emptiness.  He wasn’t the type to feel great sadness from his lack of relationship, or to pine quietly over another, single person.  Loving humanity as a whole meant that no matter where he spent his Christmas Eve, he would be celebrating just so long as he wasn’t, technically, by himself.

    Unlike the rosy-faced, smiling people below, Izaya seemed to feel the biting chill tenfold.  His coat wasn’t warm enough, and though it _did_ help, his fur-lined hood did very little to warm him.  At least he hadn’t taken to the rooftops; the pedestrian bridge was cold enough as it was.  Had he decided to watch the night unfold from up high, Izaya felt as though he might have actually frozen to the spot.

     _Ah--how_ dreadful _that would be._

    Even the news hadn’t forecast such _cold_ weather.  Mild rain late in the evening--a slim chance for snow, but nothing significant.  But the winter storm had blown in just in time for Christmas, and though there were mixed reactions around him, Izaya could see that most people were thoroughly enjoying the unexpected snowfall.  Unfortunately he didn’t share the sentiment quite as much, and as his sigh misted in the freezing air, he began to wonder if he shouldn’t call it a night and head home early.

    A conversation broke out beneath him, drawing Izaya’s attention away from his own discomfort.  A man was complaining loudly to his girlfriend that he would much rather duck inside the closest cafe for something warm to drink rather than walk all the way to Sakura House.  His girlfriend, in response, promised that the festive atmosphere would be worth the trip, and proceeded to drag her immature boyfriend off, ignoring all further protests.

    Humans really _were_ fascinating creatures.

    Another conversation--a pair of friends throwing muddy, sloppy snowballs at each other--breathless laughter.  The world around him continued to move, flowing steadily by like a swift, powerful river.  But instead of being swept up in the current, Izaya was isolated, distanced by his own design.  It was as though he were not really part of the city at all for that moment, but instead just outside of it: he found himself peacefully gazing through the cool glass of a magnificent snow globe, watching over city in his own way.  Even after shaking things up, he found himself removed--forced to sit back and observe silently.

      _What a funny thought!_

    And for the first time that evening laughter broke out; the tiny, rigid sort that held little actual amusement.  The epiphany had brought with it a sudden, unwelcome realization and despite lying to himself so _flawlessly_ he couldn’t deny that he did feel curiously lonely.  But why?  Hadn’t he left home happily that evening, both eager and excited?  Hadn’t he convinced himself that he didn’t _need_ anyone to spend time with?  Why would he even _care_?  

     Christmas _didn’t_ mean anything to him.  And that at least wasn’t a lie.

    “What’s so funny?  I wouldn’t be laughing if someone were about to break every bone in my body.”

    The voice came both as a surprise and something long overdue; hardly a present, but at the same time it was not entirely unwanted.  The gruff, annoyed tone brought with it a wave of stale cigarettes and something curiously _sweet_ ; if Izaya were to hazard a guess, he would have to imagine _someone_ had given into their holiday cravings.  Though the familiar presence would ultimately send him home, it wasn’t exactly a disappointment.  Considering the situation, it might be better to just spend the rest of the night in the warmth of his own home.

    Composing himself almost instantly, Izaya turned with a fixed smile so practiced even he would believe it to be in earnest.  It was so careful, so _believable_ , that at first glance he might have merely been greeting an old friend.  An uninformed passerby might have even confused the pair as something warm and inviting rather than an icy whirlwind of hatred and chaos.

    “Ah, Shizu-chan--did you come to wish me Merry Christmas?” Izaya asked.  His tone was impossibly light, cheerful even--yet it seemed as though he were holding back a tiny note of excitement.  “Isn’t it strange that you would come looking for me tonight?  I thought only lovers would be out at this hour.”

    “I wasn’t _looking_ for you,” Shizuo snapped.  “But you’re in Ikebukuro, announcing yourself like some damn neon sign.  You don’t even have the decency to stay home on a holiday, huh?”

     “How could I stay home and deny you my presence on Christmas Eve?  You even bought a cake, didn’t you?  Don’t tell me you actually have someone to share it with?  Does Shizu-chan have a _girlfriend_?”

          The question, amazingly, wasn’t met with any kind of anger.  An irritated huff, a clenched fist--but nothing like the unbridled, monstrous rage that Izaya had been expecting.  Instead, Shizuo took a step closer, peering over the guardrail of the bridge as though trying to work out just what was so fascinating.  Such an action left Izaya on edge, his smile faltering for a fraction of a second.  

    “The hell’re you doin’ out here, anyway?” Shizuo asked, screwing up his face in thought.  “What’s so interesting that you’d risk freezing to death?”

    Another surprise, and this time the smile faded from Izaya’s face completely.  For a moment he just watched Shizuo, every muscle in his body tensed, as though ready for the oncoming storm.  He knew there was nothing but honesty on Shizuo’s face, and he could read the man’s body like a book--and yet he found himself on guard, waiting for an attack that didn’t seem likely to come.

    “Hm--?  Ah!  How cute!  That’s really just so cute!  Are you worried about my well-being now?”  Again he attempted to smile, but the damage had already been done.  Had Shizuo even given him the briefest of glances, he would have seen something close to genuine surprise on his features.  And something like that just wasn’t acceptable.

    “What?  Tch--why would I care if you stupidly killed yourself?  You’d be doing the whole city a favor if you stopped breathing.  I just think you’re up to no good, and if it wasn’t so damn cold I’d kill you myself.”

    “But didn’t you already threaten to break my bones?  Are you getting forgetful already?  That’s a little disappointing, you know.”

    “Maybe I changed my mind.”

    “It really _is_ a Christmas miracle!”

    “Don’t sound so happy about it, bastard.  I’ll just beat you twice as much next time.”

    Frowning, Shizuo turned away from the lights below, leaning against the snow-covered railing instead.  With surprising restraint, he ignored Izaya for several moments, turning his attention to the falling snow.  There was something peaceful about it, something Izaya decidedly did not like.  Since when was the monster of Ikebukuro so eerily _calm_?

    The thought struck him that he rarely had the opportunity to see Shizuo interact with other people.  He poked and prodded the man, working him up into a rage.  Such a thing was easy, and half of the city had its own tales to tell.  Enraging Shizuo was not a difficult task, but Izaya hardly stopped to think about what the man was like with people he actually liked.  People who liked _him_ in return.  And yet he said nothing of it, choosing instead to watch as Shizuo both dug out and lit a new cigarette.

    Moments passed, and neither man spoke.  Was it really the cold that lead them to inaction?  Maybe, Izaya thought, they were both a little tired, for they didn’t seem to _entirely_ hate each other’s company.  For once, they were oddly content to share the same space, to push aside their decade of mutual hatred, and to simply... _exist_.

    Christmas miracle _indeed_.

    “Why _are_ you out here, Izaya?”  Shizuo asked at length.

    “Ahh--such a good question!”  Izaya paused, feigning thoughtfulness for several seconds.  “Mm...well, maybe I just wanted to see you.”

    Shizuo snorted derisively.  “Don’t be stupid.”

    “I came all the way to Ikebukuro to visit you on Christmas and this is how you thank me?  What if I brought you a present?  I wouldn’t give it to you now, since you don’t even know how to be nice to someone.  Shizu-chan is _definitely_ on the naughty list.”

    “...You brought me a present?”

    “No.  But didn’t you feel hopeful just then?”

    “Shut up.  You’re gonna make me change my mind again.”

    “Don’t be so materialistic!  You know, we could always just go get something to drink, or just settle for taking in the lights.  Wouldn’t that be _nice_?  You’re not actually going to eat that entire cake on your own, are you?”

   “You’re pushing your luck, louse.”

    “What a depressing holiday.  I don’t even like such things, but I’m hurt that you wouldn’t even offer me a piece.  It’s so selfish!”

    “I..za...ya…”

   A true smile spread across Izaya’s face, the childish sort of amusement that caused his features to practically light up in response.  For the first time since he had left Shinjuku, Izaya felt an honest sense of amusement--the type of happiness that, coincidentally, a child might feel when their parents came home with treats on Christmas Eve.  Despite the warning signs, he found himself having fun and becoming very curious, and so he continued to push Shizuo.

   Only to gauge his reaction.  Of course.

    “I’m joking!  Did you take me seriously?  But really, your face was so cute!  No one gives a monster presents, right?  Especially on such a holiday.  It wouldn’t be anything friendly at all, so of course you would be overlooked.  Are you so desperate that you would have even accepted something from me?”

    “I’m not desperate!  And it’s not like anyone’s lining up to give you anything!”

    “But what if I told you I actually _could_ give you a present.  And it wouldn’t even cost anything.”

    “What?”  And there it was again; the confusion.  The age-old struggle to make proper sense of Izaya’s words.  “You’re just fucking with me now, aren’t you?”

    “There’s that hope again!  I didn’t think you could even _make_ such a face.  Somehow it’s even scarier than when you’re angry.”

    “I don’t want anything from someone like you.”

    “Not even to be left alone?  I could go home right now, without another word.  If that’s what you wanted, of course.”

    “...That’s too easy.  What’s the catch?  You want me to chase you off or somethin’?”

    “Ooh--!  So clever!  You saw through me so quickly?  I’m impressed, Shizu-chan, I really am.  And here I thought your brain was too small to even form complex sentences.”

    “If you’re trying to piss me off--”

    “No, no--now listen.  I _do_ want something.  If I give you a present, it’s only polite that you return the favor.”

     “Huh?  What are you talking about?”

    “Do I really need to spell it out?  I thought you might actually understand what I was hinting at.  Was that spark of intelligence just a fluke then?  Ah--I knew better than to try and engage you in any sort of actual conversation.”

    “You want something, right?  I’m not that stupid; you’re always after _something_.  So what is it?”

    Until that point, Izaya had made a conscious effort not to open himself up to Shizuo, and instead kept himself, more or less, facing away: whether it be looking at the city around him, or people scurrying past in the snow, Izaya made sure to seem as though his attention were largely elsewhere.  But now he turned, facing Shizuo completely.  The childlike smile still remained on his lips, belying the mischief in his eyes.

    “I can’t be expected to give you a present and pick out my own at the same time.  If you want something from me you’re going to have to come up with something on your own.  I’m offering to give you a peaceful night, and since I’m so kind I won’t even come visit tomorrow.  But that doesn’t seem completely fair; I didn’t want to come back in the snow anyway.  Maybe I should extend my gift, then?  I might even stay out of Ikebukuro until New Years if you think of something good enough.”

    “Or I could just break your neck and solve the problem on my own.”

    “That’s not very merry of you, Shizu-chan.”

    It was almost as though Izaya could hear the audible _crack_ of Shizuo’s composure; the dwindling cigarette was swiftly removed from his lips and snapped in two, and for a moment Izaya was ready to run.  But then, quickly as it had come, the rage passed, once again replaced with simple irritation.  A large part of him was actually fairly impressed.  The rest of him, however, felt a cold sense of disappointment.  What was the point if Shizuo wasn’t going to take the bait?

    “....Whatever,” Shizuo muttered.  “Screw it.  You wanna stay in ‘Bukuro tonight?  Go ahead.  Call that my gift to you.  But I better not see your scrawny ass here again, got it?”

    “What’s this?  You really _must_ be lonely!  I wouldn’t have expected anything so generous otherwise.  But I think you’re being a little unrealistic; I never said I would stay out _forever_.  I think you’d have to give me a pretty remarkable present for something like that.”

    “‘Til next year then.  And when you show up again, I’ll beat you within an inch of your life!”

    “An offer to stay _and_ sparing my life?  Huh.  I didn’t imagine you the type to get all warm and fuzzy inside.  I’m touched!”

    “Don’t take it the wrong way.  It’s not like I _want_ to touch you.”

    Izaya laughed again--a soft, small thing that was completely and totally unlike the laughter before.  There was something natural about it, very nearly genuine if not the real thing.  There was a relief that warmed him, but small as it was it was welcome.  And in that moment he didn’t mind that it was freezing, or that the snow showed no signs of letting up.  His company was not ideal, but the important thing was that he wasn’t alone on Christmas Eve.  Wasn’t there something about peace on earth?   Western songs seemed to have such a recurring theme, and for one night Izaya didn’t see the harm in spending a few minutes with a wild animal like Heiwajima Shizuo.

    After all, it wasn’t the worst thing in the world.

    “Merry Christmas, Shizu-chan.”

**Author's Note:**

> My first attempt at writing anything remotely near Shizaya. I can't write for Shizuo to save my life. I'm sorry.


End file.
